


sing me like a choir

by cassiesandsmarked



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, M/M, Praise Kink, dumb boys in love who don't know how to talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiesandsmarked/pseuds/cassiesandsmarked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way that Ronan kisses Adam makes every inch of his skin tingle and all he wants is for it to go on forever. He has never felt this much at once—excitement and wanting and fear and hope. It is overwhelming in the best possible way. Ronan’s lips are soft where his are dry and chapped and he tastes like trouble and home. His hands cup Adam’s face, rough but gentle, and Adam has never felt so <i>wanted</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing me like a choir

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas, have some poorly written smut. huge thanks to [eva](http://mahealaheys.tumblr.com) for beta reading this!!

It’s two in the morning and they’re in Ronan’s BMW, driving anywhere and nowhere. Ronan is in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other wrapped around the gearshift. Adam is in the passenger’s seat, his head tilted back and his eyes half-lidded.

Late night drives have become something of a habit for them both. When Ronan won’t sleep and Adam can’t, they always end up here—watching trees race by the windows and drowning in the silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam looks at Ronan. His familiar features seem new and exhilarating in the dim light. His eyes are electric and he looks uncharacteristically content. It’s strange to get a glimpse of Ronan as he is beneath all his venom and anger, but there’s something about it that makes Adam’s heart race.

Ronan’s voice cuts through the silence, just as sharp as the rest of him. “What the fuck are you looking at, Parrish?”

“Nothing,” Adam says, a little too fast. “Just thinking.” He glances down at his hands, idly picking at a fraying seam on his jeans.

Ronan casts him a sidelong glance, half-suspicious and half-confused, but he doesn’t say anything more.

Adam tries—he really, really does—to keep his eyes on the road or his own hands or anything but Ronan. It proves to be a much more difficult task than he anticipated. Every time he thinks he’s gotten it under control, his eyes stray to Ronan’s hand on the gearshift. He drives like it’s second nature, like it’s effortless. Adam’s chest constricts and the car feels just a little too warm. He wonders if he’s getting a cold.

He shifts his arm so that it’s resting on the center console. It brushes up against Ronan’s and Adam’s skin tingles. His shirt feels too tight and all he wants to do is touch Ronan’s arm again.

 _Oh_ , Adam thinks. It’s the kind of _oh_ that comes with realization.

He moves before he can talk himself out of it, pressing his arm against Ronan’s, the contact both comforting and intoxicating. Ronan stiffens, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. Then, like a deflating tire, the tension leaves his body and he leans into Adam’s touch.

Adam steadies his breathing and tries to ignore his racing heart. He slides his thumb under one of the leather bands around Ronan’s wrist, rubbing little circles into the soft skin.

Ronan inhales sharply. He almost falters the shift from third to fourth.

“Ronan,” Adam says quietly. “Pull over.”

Wordlessly, Ronan does.

When he turns his head to face Adam, Adam reaches over to place his hand on the side of Ronan’s neck. Ronan exhales raggedly. He looks stunned, eyes wide and lips just slightly parted. Adam can feel his pulse, hard and fast. He glances down at Adam’s lips.

Adam leans in and presses his lips against Ronan’s. It’s slow and exploratory at first, trying to find a comfortable angle and learn the feeling of the other’s lips, but once they have, Adam deepens it, pulling Ronan in closer.

“Wait,” Ronan says roughly, pulling away. “Why are you—”

“Because,” Adam tells him, so quietly that he barely says it, “I want to.” What he means to say is _I want_ you.

This time, Ronan initiates the kiss. It’s intense in a way that the first one wasn’t—this kiss is everything neither of them has been bold enough to say. It is every stolen glance, every brush of their hands, every unspoken word. It is both too slow and too fast. It just _is_.

The way that Ronan kisses Adam makes every inch of his skin tingle and all he wants is for it to go on forever. He has never felt this much at once—excitement and wanting and fear and hope. It is overwhelming in the best possible way. Ronan’s lips are soft where his are dry and chapped and he tastes like trouble and home. His hands cup Adam’s face, rough but gentle, and Adam has never felt so _wanted_.

Ronan’s hand tangles in Adam’s hair, blunt nails scratching gently against Adam’s scalp. Adam worries Ronan’s bottom lip between his teeth and Ronan makes a quiet, needy sound in his throat.

They break apart to breathe and Adam takes advantage of it, wrestling Ronan’s seatbelt off of him before fumbling with his own. In what is probably an incredibly awkward and unsexy tangle of limbs, he pulls himself across the car so that he is straddling Ronan’s lap.

The only sounds in the car are their breathing and the quiet atmospheric rock still coming through the speakers. Adam looks down at Ronan and Ronan looks up at Adam. Ronan reaches up to brush his thumb across Adam’s cheekbone before he leans in to press his lips to Adam’s neck, dragging his teeth over the soft skin.

Adam’s grip on Ronan’s shoulder tightens and, when Ronan nips at his collarbone, he involuntarily rolls his hips forward, groaning softly at the contact.

“Fuck,” says Ronan reverently. His hands slide beneath Adam’s shirt, skimming over his hips and leaving warmth in their wake. He meets Adam’s eyes in a silent question. It’s only once Adam has nodded that Ronan tugs the shirt over his head.

Ronan presses his lips to every inch of exposed skin, from Adam’s shoulders to the palms of his hands. Adam is struck by the tenderness of it all—by Ronan’s incredible capability for both violence and compassion.

Ronan swipes the pads of his thumbs over Adam’s nipples and he arches into the touch, sighing unsteadily at the growing discomfort in his jeans.

“Outside,” he says firmly, groping for the door handle. He stumbles out of the car and Ronan is quick to follow. Adam backs him up against the BMW, hands rough on his hips, and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Ronan’s mouth before he moves to Ronan’s neck. He sucks and bites at the soft skin until it is bright red and he's certain it’s going to leave a mark.

Adam can feel Ronan’s hardness pressed against his hip, so he slides his leg in between Ronan’s and grinds it up against Ronan’s erection. There’s a broken moan and then Ronan’s head falls back against the car.

“You’re so fucking good,” Adam says into the crook of Ronan’s neck. Ronan’s grip on his waist tightens and he makes a low, needy noise that lights Adam’s body on fire.

Adam’s hands move to Ronan’s fly, which he undoes with fumbling fingers. He pulls Ronan’s jeans and boxers down in one movement before he sinks to his knees. When he looks up at Ronan, Ronan is looking back at him, wide-eyed and enraptured.

Butterflies flutter in the pit of Adam’s stomach. He doesn’t think he deserves to be looked at the way that Ronan Lynch looks at him.

“Adam,” Ronan breathes out just before Adam takes the head of his dick into his mouth. He has no idea what he’s doing, really, but he’s got a pretty good idea of how it’s supposed to work. He swirls his tongue around, relishing in the noises Ronan is making above him.

Ronan’s hand finds its way into Adam’s hair and tugs gently, sending a thrill through Adam’s body. He hums contently in response. Ronan’s hips stutter and his grip on Adam’s hair tightens.

Adam wraps his hand around the base of Ronan’s dick and jerks it in time with the movement of his head. His knees are starting to ache and his jaw is starting to cramp, but the way Ronan is moaning above him is worth the discomfort.

“Fuck,” says Ronan in the same voice that he uses to pray. “I’m gonna--”

Adam pulls off immediately and, roughly, tells him, “Not yet.”

A quiet whine escapes him, but he nods shakily.

“Backseat,” Adam orders and Ronan does what he’s told without question. Before Adam joins him, he unbuttons his own fly and kicks his jeans and shoes off, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. He climbs into the car, looming over Ronan, and straddles his hips, grinding his own erection down on Ronan’s for a few brief seconds before he grabs Ronan’s chin and turns his head so that their eyes meet. “I want you to blow me,” he says in a low voice.

Ronan swallows hard and nods. “Yes. God, yes.”

Adam grins and leans down to press a quick kiss to his lips before moving so that their positions are switched. Ronan settles between his legs and dips his head to trail kisses up the inside of Adam’s thigh to his dick, mouthing at it through the fabric. Adam bucks his hips into the touch, even though it’s nowhere near enough.

After a few agonizing moments, Ronan yanks the boxer briefs off and licks a stripe up the underside of Adam’s dick before he wraps his lips around it.

Adam’s breath hitches and he bites back a groan. There’s a part of him that wants to close his eyes in pleasure, but, even more so, he wants to be able to see the obscene way that Ronan’s lips look stretched around his dick, wet and red.

Ronan takes him deeper, Adam’s dick almost touching the back of his throat, and Adam can’t keep his hips from bucking up into the wet heat of Ronan’s mouth. He’s about to apologize, but Ronan moans around him. Tentatively, he repeats the motion and he can see Ronan start to grind his own hips down against the leather of the seats. Ronan pulls off of Adam’s dick just long enough to brokenly say, “Fuck my mouth. _Please_.” Then he Adam into his mouth once more, staring up at him from under thick eyelashes.

Adam complies. It’s slow and careful at first, but the pace picks up before long and Ronan looks absolutely wrecked, making soft, needy noises in the back of his throat as he rubs himself on the seats.

Adam feels a familiar pressure start to build in his stomach and he bites out, “I’m close.”

Ronan doesn’t pull off, just takes Adam as deep as he can, throat constricting around Adam’s dick, and Adam comes with a low moan. Then, Ronan pulls off and surges up to kiss Adam, hot and dirty. His dick is still hard, trapped between them, and, as he ruts down against Adam, Adam swallows his moans.

Against his lips, Adam whispers, “You’re so good,” and, with that, Ronan shudders and comes, grinding against Adam’s hip.

There’s hardly enough room in the backseat of the BMW for cuddling, but they make do. Ronan uses his shirt to clean up the mess between them and then collapses, halfway on top of Adam. For a few long moments, they’re both silent. Then, Adam presses his lips to Ronan’s shoulder and says, “Do you want to stay over at my place tonight?”

Ronan smiles—real and genuine and _happy_. “You could probably talk me into it.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr dot com @ [parrishronans](http://parrishronans.tumblr.com) for more trash


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